


Death and the Princess of Erebor

by Solshine



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Dialogue-Only, F/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Storytelling, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solshine/pseuds/Solshine
Summary: There's a very simple explanation for how the Line of Durin survived the Battle of Five Armies. And if you promise to go to bed straight after, and your mother can resist adding any helpful commentary, I'll tell it to you.
Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Death and the Princess of Erebor

**Author's Note:**

> Me, digging out and finishing years-old WIPs: See, I can still write without the pressure of a deadline!! I get there eventually!!!

She had saved his life three times by the time of the Battle of the Five Armies.  
  
The first time was the first time they met. The first he saw of her was her arrow, slaying a spider that would have killed him, and her face scarcely a moment later—and with that mere glance, he knew that she was unlike any woman he had yet seen, in her fierceness and calm and undwarflike beauty.  
  
And unlike any he would ever see again, since he was sure she would kill him presently.  
  
But she did not.  
  
_  
“Why didn’t she?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well, because she’d been ordered to capture the trespassers by the elven king, not kill them.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And because she loved him at first sight, right?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“She was the captain of the guard and he was a trespasser in elven lands. It would be very inappropriate for her to love him at this point of the story.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I think she loved him anyway.”_  
  
  
Death stood over him, but she strung a new arrow on her bow and said to Death, “This I have won from you, and now his life is mine.” And so Death took the spider, and left the dwarven prince.  
  
The elven captain took the prince and his companions with her, and the dwarves were locked in the deep dungeons. And when they at last escaped, the trials were waiting for them at the door, as orcs set upon them, vicious and cruel.  
  
  
_“Waiting at the water gate, more like. While the dwarves bounced about in barrels half-drowned.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“It’s called creative license, all right? It’s streamlining the plot to not take focus from the main narrative. I thought elves were supposed to be great storytellers.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Not all of us. I’m a soldier, remember? My time was seldom spent in the storytelling halls.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Just tell the story, Da.”  
  
  
_ But there the elf captain was again, slaying the orcs that were as hateful to her people as to the prince’s. And once more Death stood above the wounded prince, who had been struck with a morgul arrow, and once more the elf pointed her arrow at him and said “This I have now twice won from you, and his life is mine twice over.” And so Death took the orc, and left the dwarven prince.  
  
_“Wasn’t Death mad to have the prince stolen?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“But sweet, he wasn’t stolen. He was won. Death is not a thief, and he is not stolen from. He is a gambler, as we all are, and a good loser, as we all should be. He knew the saved life was fair won in a fair game.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well, all right then.”_

And though they neither expected to see the other again, it was not the last that fate had for them. For the dread arrow had poisoned his veins, and the dwarven prince was dying. And the elf captain’s destiny brought her to his sickbed, where with holy words and arcane herbs, she healed him of his sickness, although it’s a miracle that she did because she was just a soldier and wasn’t good at any of those elf talents other than shooting things.

_“Good enough for you, I’d hope!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I am merely representing you in the way which you expressed a wish to be represented, love.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You’re ruining the story, Da!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Blame your mother, not me.”_

So anyway, Death too stood over the prince’s sickbed, and the elf captain had nothing but the stains of crushed leaves on her hands, but she stood and faced him anyway with her chin high, and said, “A third time have I won this man’s life from you, and three times over does his life belong to me.” And Death went away from that place emptyhanded.  
  
Now, about the burgling and the slaying of the great dragon Smaug, much has been sung—

_“You could sing it anyway.”_  
  
_“Yeah, that’s a good story."_

—much has been sung, and will not be here repeated. Though the captain and the prince saw each other from a distance—from the scorched ground of the dragon’s desolation and the cold heights of ruined Erebor—the two did not meet again until it was on the battlefield, the Battle of Five Armies. Both fought valiantly side by side, for their purposes were at last united.

_“And because they were in love?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I don’t know, I think it’s fair to say that—“_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Yes. They were definitely very in love.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well there you are, you heard the woman.”  
_

So the two doughty warriors, fearless and strong and deeply in love, fought together as the battle raged on. And with the prince too fought his brother, and his uncle Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain. They fought for their home, their family, their honor.  
  
Then Azog, the Pale Orc, brought his weapon against Thorin, and the younger dwarf prince stepped in between the foul creature and the king. He fell bravely, and Death came for him, but standing over the prince as he bled was the elf captain, an arrow to her bow.  
  
“This dwarf’s life is mine,” she said to Death, just as she had before. “He owes it to me thrice over, and he shall not go from this world without my permission.”  
  
Death did not move, but neither did he take the prince.  
  
Then the Pale Orc’s weapon fell again, and this time it was the crown prince who stepped before the blow. And he fell, and Death made to reach for the other brother.  
  
“This one is blood of his blood,” said the elf captain, “and his fate is bound with his brother’s. The young prince yet owes his life to me twice, and I would claim his brother from you as his payment.”  
  
And still Death did not move nor speak, but neither did he take the prince’s brother.  
  
Finally the orc’s weapon came to fall against Thorin, and though he fought valiantly for love of his kingdom and for rage at the bloody brows of his heirs, and he struck true at the great breast of the foul creature, he too was struck in the battle, and fell. This time, Death did not reach for him, but only looked to the captain.  
  
She stood with her eyes flashing and said, “Is the king not blood of the prince’s blood as well? Are their fates not bound as well? I would not have the prince suffer the loss of his king. I would claim this dwarf too as mine.”  
  
Death did not make a sound, but the words ‘ _his debt now is clear’_ hung in the air, cold and sure, as if spoken. Then he turned to the Pale Orc, cleaved by the sword of Thorin, and took him, and turned away to the work he yet had to do.

_“And then they got married? The captain and the prince?”_  
  
_“Well, first they won the battle, and Papa Thorin took his true place as King Under the Mountain.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Yes, but after that part.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“They are very important parts. But yes, after that, and a courtship of an appropriate length, they got married.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And she became the Princess, right Ma?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And she became princess, and mother to a couple beautiful little ones who stayed up past their bedtime.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“That’s my favorite story.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I like the one about the burgling of Smaug.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Well, you’re going to have to find someone else to tell you that one next time, because I wasn’t even there. Your ma’s right, off to bed.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And how will the storyteller sleep with no one to tell him a story, hm?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I’m doomed to restless nights, I suppose, since my wife has inherited no elven storytelling ability.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“No abilities, perhaps, but I’ve inherited the stories well enough. Do you remember the Cuivienyarna?”_

“ _How’m I supposed to remember any of your long curly Elf words? Is that one of the ones about Fëanor?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“It’s the one about the waking of the elves, you Dwarvish boor. Come here.”_ _  
_ __  
_“If you insist. But keep your voice down, I just went to all that trouble to send the sprogs to bed.”_  


This is the story of the awakening of the first Quendi, who were shaped full-grown from the flesh of Arda. They were six of them, formed and laid beneath the stars, each together with their destined spouse, before even the birth of the sun and moon...


End file.
